


Turn Off Your Mind, Relax, and Float Downstream

by NickelModelTales



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1970s, Coming Out, F/F, Hypnotism, Porn With Plot, Punk Rock, References to the Beatles, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickelModelTales/pseuds/NickelModelTales
Summary: A sexy punk rocker girl agrees to be the hypnotized guinea pig for her next-door neighbor, who is in training to be a stage hypnotist.  After she falls under his spell, he begins meddling in her love life.





	1. Platinum Vomit

**Author's Note:**

> A loyal reader suggested this specific ending, which is an unusual but awesome writing challenge.
> 
> Also: My apologies to the Beatles... No, I don't own their song lyrics, I'm just quoting them.

** _Havertown, the Greater Philadelphia Area_ **

** _March, 1976_ **

Now the bass drum **_really_** started kicking. That meant Platinum Vomit, an all-girl punk band, was crashing into of final verse of “The Tattoo Chick.” The female musicians, exhausted as they were, leaned into the music and poured on a little more energy. Time to **_rock it_**, baby.

At the cusp of the tiny stage, the beautiful Alexandra grabbed the mike with both hands. Sweat gleamed on the sides of her face and her barely-clad body. Standing like a colossus, she arched her back and sang at the top of her lungs:

** _ No-one sees her!_ **

** _ No, they don’t fucking see her!_ **

** _ She’s all alone, baby, the Tattoo Chick!_ **

** _ Nobody sees her_ **

** _ Yeah, baby, YEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!_ **

That was it. With a crash of thunder, the final song of the night roared to a sudden and triumphant halt.

“**_Fuck, yeah!_**” Alex screeched, hoisting the mike – still on the mike stand – over her head, a gesture of defiance, pride, and celebration all in one. She loved performing.

The sweaty audience of twenty-somethings cheered… although the enthusiasm was mixed. The guys applauded and hooted. Some were genuinely enthralled by the music; others were just enjoying that Alex and the band wore practically nothing. The women in the audience glowered.

“These bitches are just tits and ass and a fucking lot of guitar,” one girlfriend muttered to another.

But up on stage, Alex basked in the scant applause. She set down the mike, then pulled a hand through her long, black hair, grinning proudly. Behind her, her bandmates (Amy on bass, Kelly on ‘set, Jen on lead guitar), shuffled on their feet. They were exhausted.

It had not been their best show. The sound system in Wily Mike’s Bar wasn’t balanced well, which made it tough for the ladies to hear one another. Plus, Alex and Jen had a bad habit of competing against one another for the audience’s attention. Such friction always hurt the music.

“**_Yo, Wily Mike’s,_**” Alex shouted into the mike. “**_You like what you hear, eh?_**”

The men in the audience cheered.

“**_I can’t FUCKING HEAR YOU,_**” Alex bellowed. But she could coax out no more cheering.

The young singer was merely seventeen, but she had the stature and arrogant confidence of a woman twice her age. She was tall, and she always stood with her back straight. This made her big chest jut out, her long legs look even longer, and her posture assume an almost aggressive bearing.

Alex was a smokin’ chick, no doubt about it. Her conservative mother once hoped Alex might compete in the Miss Pennsylvania Beauty Pageants, as Alex’s allure was undeniable. The girl’s body was slender, yet she had a large bust and wide, graceful hips. This gave her an eye-catching hourglass figure. She was the classic female ideal… if this was the 1950’s.

But nothing about Alex was traditional. Her stage costume said everything: She sported a tiny pair of jean shorts, worn low about the hips, but cut high to show off her legs. (No underwear.) A small, ripped tank top stretched across her bulging breasts. (No bra.) And Alex had a thing for black combat boots. Every other part of her body was exposed, to the delight of her male fans. The girl had many, many tattoos, wore rings on every finger, and let her waist-length black hair flow down her graceful back. That hair swished over her round butt as if it were a cape. Complete that look with her disdainful sneer, and you had Alex’s look down pat.

There was a smattering of applause.

“Jesus Christ, Alex,” Jen muttered behind the singer. “Get us off stage, will ya?”

Alex smirked again. “**_Yo, Havertown_**,” she boomed into the mike. “**_That’s our set, bitches._**” She raised her hands, flipping off the world. “**_So FUCK YOU ALL!!!_**”

The lights went down There was a little more clapping, but the audience had already forgotten the show.

*********

An hour later, Alex was squeezed in at the crowded bar. Perhaps thirty impatient people were crammed in there with her, all yelling for the bartender’s attention.

The beautiful young singer sighed. The high from performing on stage was long gone. Now Alex was… what? Hanging out with the ordinary customers, hoping to find some excuse not to go home. Her tiny rathole apartment was only blocks away, but the thought of trudging there and snapping on Channel 17’s Late Late Movie was too boring to contemplate. So Alex waited, hoping for a drink and someone interesting to catch her attention.

The men swarmed about the barely-clad teenager. She felt their eyes on her body. Alex had always been a tomboy, more comfortable with guys than fellow girls. Now, after puberty, that preference seemed to have backfired, and badly. Women resented her beauty and didn’t want her near their boyfriends. Men showered her with affection, but their hands itched to wander over her figure. The older she got, the more alone Alex felt.

Right now, two guys, Gary and Mick, were especially aggressive in competing for her affections. Both were chatting her up almost non-stop. Gary, in particular, was especially handsy.

“Oh babe,” he mugged, squeezing even closer to Alex’s body. “You were so rad up on stage, so rad.”

Gary’s eager palm was coming dangerously close to Alex’s butt.

Time to take charge of the situation. “Thanks, dude,” the young singer smiled, flirting just enough. “Aw, saaaaay, I **_really_** need a drink. Like, **_really_**.” She flipped her hair, in that way guys found irresistible. “Can you get me a tequila?”

She flashed Gary her best bedroom eyes, and instantly he was in her power.

“Oh, sure, you got it,” Gary promised. He pivoted to the bar, and began waving a twenty dollar bill to capture the bartender’s attention.

Alex studied Gary, unimpressed. The dude was heavyset, with a big puffy hairdo, a garish tie-dye tee shirt, and wide bell-bottoms. He had confidence, sure, but he also had bad teeth and wasn’t as handsome as he thought he was.

Could Alex hook up with Gary, even just for an evening? Alex sighed. Once she gave Gary the nod, his hands would be **_plastered_** all over her body. Plus she’d have to fend off countless invitations to Gary’s pad or out to his car. Alex wasn’t enthusiastic.

Still, the big lug was easily manipulated. And he had plenty of cash. Alex could keep working him for free drinks all night long, if she led him on long enough. That was an encouraging thought.

While Gary’s back was turned, the other suitor made his move. This was Mick, a tall, skinny dude at least ten years older than Alex. Mick wore a good-looking suit and leather shoes, which spoke well for his sense of taste. But his open shirt was showing off way too much chest hair. And his sideburns were possibly thick enough to qualify as shag carpeting.

“Hey bunny,” Mick schmoozed, sliding closer to Alex.

Alex forced a smile.

Mick launched into a description of the autobody shop he co-owned with his father, and Alex wondered if this endless stream of bragging was supposed to impress her.

Could she hook up with Mick? Pros: Better dresser, not as grabby, possibly interesting, once he stopped boasting about himself. Also, Mick had money. Cons: Self-absorbed, way too much body hair, and his eyes kept wandering down Alex’s figure. She felt naked under his gaze.

The young woman sighed inwardly. Gary or Mick? This was easily the most depressing choice of the evening. Her already-darkened mood soured a little more.

Both men clearly expected sex. And deep down inside, Alex knew: there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to go to bed with either man. For whichever guy she picked, she’d flirt, make out a little, let them grope her, then nothing more. In return, they would keep her entertained and supplied with free drinks. Then, when Alex had had enough, she’d excuse herself to go to the Ladies’ Room… and slip out the back. This is what happened after **_every_** gig.

The crowd swirled for a moment, and then Jen, Platinum Vomit’s lead guitar, elbowed her way up to Alex. “Hey,” the svelte musician said.

“Hey Jen,” replied Alex. She wrinkled her nose; Jen was about to lay down a lecture, Alex just knew it.

“Listen,” Jen said, ignoring Mick as he tried to look down her top, “don’t forget: Our stage time here tomorrow night is **_nine_**, get it? Nine.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it, thanks, Mom,” Alex grumbled, rolling her eyes.

You might think that Alex would have found a natural friendship with her bandmates. After all, she’d initially joined Platinum Vomit hoping for female companionship.

But Alex was too brash, too impulsive for Jen, Amy, and Kelly. After rehearsals and gigs, Amy and Kelly would immediately vanish, running off to their boyfriends or wherever. To Alex, they were civil, respectful. But never chummy.

So that left Jen. Jen was twenty-two, very, very pretty, with short, cropped blonde hair, an elf-like complexion, and startling green eyes. Like Alex, she was voluptuous everywhere except her thin waist. She was an expert guitarist, a girl who could channel Hendrix and Dylan and Zappa when you put an axe into her hands. Oh, she could **_wail_**. Alex had a lot of respect for Jen’s talent.

But Jen was cool, detached, brainy to the point of being annoying. And because she doubled as Platinum Vomit’s manager, Jen could also be bossy and uptight. Just when Alex thought it might be possible to hang with Jen socially, the older woman would crack the whip, reminding Alex of what a bitch she could be.

Like now. Jen’s lips grew thin. “You can’t be late again, Alex,” she said tersely. “Mike isn’t gonna let us back on stage if you’re not there at-“

“At nine, at nine. I heard you,” snapped Alex.

As if on cue, Mike LeTora, the owner of Wily Mike’s himself, appeared behind the bar. His suspicious eyes flashed over the two female bandmates.

“You should listen to your older sister,” Mike told Alex, his brow wrinkling.

“She’s, like, not my sister, pops,” retorted Alex.

**_Sister?_** Ewww!

Mike scowled, but said nothing further. He turned, raising an engraved crystal plaque to the high shelf above the bar.

“No way, Mike,” Jen said with interest. “You got it?”

“I got it!” Mike confirmed proudly, tilting the plaque so it faced out to the dancefloor. “Can you believe it? Signed by Fred Shero, Reggie Leach, **_and_** Bobby Clarke themselves! I had to stake out the Flyers’ locker room for six games, but oh… Well, its a thing of beauty. Eh?”

Alex squinted. The plaque said: **_PHILADELPHIA FLYERS :: 1974-1975 Stanley Cup Champions_**

“Whoa,” Mick muttered, awestruck.

Mike beamed, stepping back to admire. “It catches the light, don’t it?”

“Its cool beans,” Jen said approvingly.

“Thanks babe,” grinned Mike, turning to wipe down the bar. “You always had great taste.” He hesitated. “Except for that godawful punk music you ladies play. How come you guys don’t cover a nice Beatles tune every now and then?”

Alex couldn’t help but gag loudly. The **_Beatles?_** Her much-older brother Cory listened to the fucking Beatles. Cory also worked as a therapist, had a country club membership, idolized Barry Goldwater, and always, always, always wore a tie. The Beatles were for pussies.

Beside her, Jen snorted in agreement. “Sorry, Mike,” she said. “Platinum Vomit aren’t Beatles girls.”

“What?” Mike urged. “But the Fab Four, they’ve got such a unique sound…!”

Jen shook her head, speaking for all of Platinum Vomit. The girls were **_not_** a pop cover band. They were punkers, hardcore punkers, one of the first such bands in the USA.

And while Platinum Vomit hadn’t completely jelled as a group, they had a unique sound. They were their own special flavor. Someday, if only the planets aligned, the four ladies would scrape together enough money to record themselves, make an honest-to-God album of their own. Then they could get their sound out there. Show the world. Be on the cusp of the punk wave that was set to sweep across the USA. That was the dream.

But if there was one thing Alex and Jen saw eye-to-eye on, it was that covering dopey Beatles songs would **_never_** get them on the map.

Just then, the bartender handed two glasses of tequila to the heavyset Gary. Gary immediately turned, handing one glass to Alex. “Here you are, baby,” he beamed.

The young singer snatched the glass, draining it in three gulps. Then she took the second one, too.

Mike’s eyes widened. “Hey,” he said crossly. Pointing at Alex, he said to the bartender, “She ain’t supposed to be drinking here! Not until-”

“Oh, lighten up, Mike,” Alex retorted. “My band brings in, like, two hundred people into this joint. I’m making you so much money.”

“You still ain’t paid your own tab,” Mike reminded her. “And another thing-“

“Hey Mike!” called out the bartender. “They need you in the back!”

Mike gave Alex a last stern look, then turned and departed. The young singer gave him the bird the moment his back was turned.

“Alex!” Jen exclaimed, embarrassed. “Jesus, get some self-control, will you?”

“Hmmgh,” replied her bandmate. Her pissy mood was only getting worse.

“Okay, I gotta go,” said Jen, fixing Alex with a fierce stare. “Tomorrow night, be here at **_nine_**, right?”

Alex nodded, sipping the second tequila.

Jen turned, swimming through the crowd to reclaim her guitar case. Gary and Mick paused to admire her ass as she bent over. Then the pretty young guitarist was out the door and gone.

“So,” Gary said, returning to Alex, “I’ve got a bangin’ Corvette. Red. Its in the parking lot. You wanna see it…?”

“Corvette?” scoffed Mick, leaning closer to Alex. “Dude, you’re a chump. A chump! Don’t you know what fuckin’ real fun is?”

“What?” Alex asked, intrigued by this statement.

Mick adopted a conspiratorial look. His hands dipped into his suit jacket pocket, drawing out…

…a plastic baggie. With white powder inside.

Alex grinned. Looked like Mick was her hook-up for the night.

*********

Borrowing an ashtray from the bartender, Alex and Mick lit Marlboros, huddling as close as possible. Rejected Gary had moved on, but now Mick’s hands were crawling over Alex like cockroaches. He particularly liked her thighs and hips.

Alex wasn’t thrilled, but she permitted this transgression. She was interested in the powder. Getting high might salvage this lame evening. And if she had to make out with Mick, well, getting her mind blasted might make the experience tolerable.

What was the substance? Mick didn’t say. The makeshift couple made four lines on the bar, then each snorted one, covering for each other. Mike and the bartender were too distracted to notice.

Mick sniffed first. After Alex had her taste, Mick carefully covered up the two remaining lines with a napkin. Then the two waited for the stuff to kick in.

Alex took a long drag on her cigarette, studying Mick more closely than before. Could she imagine making out with this guy?

Uhh… Maybe. Mick was so hairy, he might look like a Bigfoot under that shirt. Alex wasn’t sure she could get into that.

“Oh… Oh, man,” Mick mumbled, allowing his eyes to become unfocused for a moment. “Yeah, **_there_** it is…”

And Alex felt it, too. A buzz. A nice buzz, twirling about her head, making her feel better. Soothing away the depression. Yeah. **_Yeeeeeeeah…_**

Mick was more-or-less a good guy, she felt. Sure, his right hand was trying to uncross her legs, but… eh. Life could be worse, right?

She took another drag from the cigarette.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Mick grunted, swiveling his head atop his neck. He flexed his jaws a few times. Meanwhile, his hand swarmed over Alex’s hips, coming to rest on her round behind.

Suddenly it was like he noticed Alex’s face for the first time. Mick grinned, leaning closer, and breathing on Alex’s neck. His hand slid into her lap.

“You read Playboy?” he asked, slightly panting. “You know what Playboy says about girl rock singers?”

“What?” Alex asked, not really interested.

“That you girls sing because your vaginas aren’t getting fucked enough,” giggled Mick.

The ends of Alex’s mouth turned down. Men were never interested in her for her music. Only her tits and vag.

“I want another hit,” she announced.

There were two lines left. Alex sucked up one, and then, after hesitating, the other.

“Yo!” Mick protested. “That was for me!”

The young singer brushed her nostrils, tasting the buzz. It was getting more intense.

“Seriously, do you know how much that cost?” her companion grumbled. His hands cupped her butt a little more firmly.

“Dude,” shrugged Alex, “chill out.”

“Aw, you…” Mick mumbled, lost for words. “I better be getting a niiiiice blow job out of this.”

Now Alex was pissed. “Dude. I said: Chill.”

“You’re for real?” Mick ranted.

Then the dude reached up with both hands, firmly clasping Alex’s breasts.

His touch was not rough, but it wasn’t loving, either. In his muddled brain, Mick was only thinking of his own pleasure.

“Fucker!” Alex yelled, hopping off her barstool.

Immediately, her head swam. Her legs swayed. She nearly toppled into the gaggle of people behind her.

But her rage was still burning. “Don’t you **_EVER_** touch me!” she hollered, stabbing an accusing finger at Mick. “Asshole!”

Mick’s face contorted in outrage. “You fucking cunt!” he blurted. “Yeah, cunt! I wouldn’t fuck your skanky pussy if-“

Alex saw red. **_The fuck_** did Mick say?!? Revenge was demanded!

Feeling a little too cocky thanks to the powder, Alex lunged forward. She snatched the ashtray, then dumped its contents into Mick’s open shirt.

The crowd laughed cruelly.

“You…” Mick cried, hopping about. “You bitch, you bitch, you bitch, I swear I’ll-“

“Aw… shut the fuck up,” Alex sneered. Her head wobbled.

“Your shitty band is **_horrible_**,” ranted Mick. “Fucking horrible! You skanks sound like screeching cats in heat, all on the rag, all-“

Trembling with rage, Alex flung the ashtray straight at Mick’s face, whipping it through the air like a fastball.

The dude ducked back, just in time. The ashtray shot past him, over the bar, and then smashing into Mike’s crystal Flyers plaque. The plaque spun once on the shelf, then toppled onto the floor.

There was the sound of shattering glass behind the bar.

“Oh fuck!” Alex gasped.

Conversation everywhere died. Everyone turned to stare at the stoned singer.

The pressure of all those eyes was too much. Alex burst out into maniacal laughter. She couldn’t help it; she was so damn high. Her head spun even faster.

Mike rushed up, his face ashen. He gaped at the remains of his plaque… then turned to Alex with sheer malice in his eyes.

“Oh fuck!” squealed Alex. “Fuck, fuck, **_fuck, fuck…!_**”

Realizing that the evening was irreparable, Alex threw caution to the wind. She flipped off first Mick, then Mike. Then, as the aghast crowd parted before her, she turned and staggered out of Wily Mike’s for the last time.

*********


	2. Leon at the Laundromat

The sun rose a few hours later.

Alex heard her alarm clock ringing, and immediately refused to believe it was time to crawl out of bed. She killed the alarm, then threw the clock into the overflowing laundry hamper.

Outside her grungy studio apartment, she could hear and smell the garbage truck. The vehicle belched, and ugly, black smoke drifted up past the window.

*********

Sometime later, Alex cracked an eye open. Her skull felt as if coated in lead. As she sat up and her head careened atop her neck, extreme nausea flooded over her. Her mouth tasted of dry vomit. Her body was sticky and smelled… gross.

Groaning, Alex crawled to peer at her watch. It was 1:17. In the afternoon.

“Fuuuuuuuuck…!” she groaned.

With difficulty, she lifted the phone and dialed. A pleasant man’s voice answered: “_Cooper’s Supermarket, how may I help you?_”

“Wilbur?” Alex mumbled. “Wilbur, man, I feel really, really sick. Like, **_really_** sick. I can’t come in to work today.” She coughed for effect.

Technically, she wasn’t lying.

“_Alexandra?_” the male voice said, instantly becoming frosty. “_Why didn’t you call before your shift started?_”

“I gotta go,” Alex slurred, then hung up.

The young woman cradled her head, moaning softly. How much longer before the band cut its album? And she could move out of her hellhole life?

*********

The hangover lasted for another four hours. When she was finally able to stand without the room spinning, Alex was in a rotten mood. Her day was largely shot.

She decided that she should do the laundry. Well, “should” wasn’t really the right word here… “absolutely had to” was probably a better phrase. She was out of underwear and tops that didn’t smell.

The laundromat was down the block. Alex only had seventy cents to her name, barely enough for one washer, then one dryer. She had to use her flirty charms to goad a hapless twenty-something fellow into “lending” her some detergent. Then she crammed her clothes she had into the smallest washer, forced the door shut, shoved in thirty-five cents, and prayed that everything would get clean.

Forty-five minutes later, Alex’s temper was even worse than before. The washer that she chose broke down, leaving her wardrobe a dripping, unappealing mess. She had just enough coins for the smallest dryer. So she began picking out the big items (sweatshirts, jeans) from the little one (undies, socks, baby tees). The little things she would have to dry at home.

Worse, she was forgetting something… something… **_something_**. The young woman hated that nagging feeling. What was she spacing about?

As Alex was sorting out her panties, she realized that twenty-something guy was staring at her from across the row of washers.

“Do you **_mind?_**” Alex said rudely.

“Sorry,” the guy mumbled.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Hey,” she said. “I fucking know you. How?”

The guy returned her gaze. “I’m Leon,” he replied. “I’m your next-door neighbor.”

Oh.

Ah, of course. Now Alex placed him. The geek. The schlub. The dork. The supremely dateless wonder.

Leon was small and skinny, with narrow cheeks, a neat bowl-cut hairdo, and bowed shoulders. He actually wore a plaid shirt with hightop sneakers, proving that he didn’t have a clue about much fashion. Jesus, Leon’s posture screamed **_LOSER_**; he would gain two inches if he just straightened his spine. A thick book was opened in his hands.

Actually… the guy wasn’t that ugly. His lean face was plain, even handsome if you looked at him for longer than a quick glance. The boy had nice sky-blue eyes. His girlfriend… if he had one… probably thought he was cute.

Alex scowled to herself. She was in a much bitchier mood than she’d realized.

“You come here often?” Leon said bravely, attempting the world’s Most Obvious Pick-Up Line.

Alex threw Leon a scathing look. “Not interested,” she warned.

“Oh, okay, okay, sure. Sure…” Leon mumbled. He dove back into his book.

Despite her annoyance, Alex noted the book’s title: Advanced Hypnotism: A Practical Approach.

**_Hypnotism?_** Her nerdy neighbor was studying **_hypnotism?_** Alex shook her head. The boy was a bigger dweeb than she thought.

“Isn’t that stuff a scam?” she asked, letting her contempt show.

“What?” Leon asked, looking up.

Alex nodded at the book. “Hypnosis. I’ve heard it’s a crock of shit. It must be, right?”

Her neighbor looked hopeful. “Well, if you’d like to try it-“

“Fuck off,” Alex said, her voice dripping poison.

She glanced away, and her eyes lit on the clock on the wall. It was 7:08.

After **_seven?!?_**

A feeling of dread suddenly stabbed Alex. Now she knew what the fuck she’d been forgetting.

She only had enough change for one load in the dryer.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…!” the singer muttered, thinking quickly.

Leon was still watching her.

“Dude,” Alex said, turning on the flirty charm, “can I borrow a dime? I can totally pay you back when we get home.”

Without protest, Leon fished a dime from his pockets. “Thanks,” Alex said, snatching it before he could speak again.

Thank God the pay phone in the back still worked. Alex dialed, then waited in agony while the phone rang.

Jen picked up.

“Hey girl,” Alex said brightly. “Listen…”

“_What’s up, Alex?_” Jen cut her off. “_I need to swing by the music shop before our gig. You’re not going to be late, are you?_”

Alex’s guts twisted inside her. “Uh, about that,” she said, cringing. “I don’t think we can go back to Wily Mike’s… like, ever…”

In a halting and meek voice, Alex described the fate of Mike’s Flyers plaque. There was a deathly silence on the other end of the line.

“I’m really, really sorry, Jen,” Alex half-moaned. “But… you’ve got other gigs lined up, right? You’re the world’s best band manager, right?”

“_You’ve gotta get your shit together, Alex!_” Jen half-exploded. “**What the fuck**_ am I gonna tell Amy and Kelly?!?_”

“We’ll get better gigs! I’ll help!” Alex implored.

“_Sure. Whatever,_” Jen said angrily. The hurt was evident in her voice.

Alex cringed. “Don’t be mad at me?”

Jen hung up.

*********

But it was another week before Jen found a replacement gig. “_The new place is called X Bar,_” Jen told Alex over the phone, her voice frosty. “_It attracts the right crowd, you get me?_”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you,” Alex promised, scrambling through her apartment, looking for a piece of paper and a pen.

“_It’s outside of Chesterbrook,_” Jen continued. “_Ten o’clock. Sharp._”

Alex bit her lip. “Chesterbrook?” she repeated. That was at least two bus rides away, maybe more. She’d need to consult a map.

“_Hey,_” Jen snapped. “_We’re lucky X Bar took us. Its this… or nothing._”

The line went dead as Jen disconnected.

Alex exhaled, fighting a sense of dread. Chesterbrook? Jesus, that location could be a problem.

As she brooded, the young woman’s gaze roamed over her tiny apartment, an utter mess as always.

Her eyes found themselves gravitating to the top of her cinder block-and-plywood bookshelf. There, was the one nice possession Alex had: her father’s electric guitar. A Fender Telecaster with a butterscotch fretboard. An elegant thing of beauty.

Alex couldn’t play, but it was the one thing of her dad’s she possessed, God rest his soul. Lord knew her uptight mother or brother Cory didn’t appreciate the instrument. So Alex coveted it, giving the axe an almost shrine-like status in her apartment.

_Someday, Dad_, the young singer thought forlornly. _Someday Platinum Vomit will cut that album… I fucking swear it._

*********

The day of the X Bar gig, Alex **_promised_** herself that she’d keep her shit together. She actually showed up a half an hour early for work, and pretended to be nice to the customers. She skipped her usual beer at lunch. Not wanting to dare fate, she even made nice with Todd, the slimy bag boy who never stopped hitting on her.

At seven PM, Alex’s midday shift was over. “You got a date tonight?” Bethany, her fellow cashier, asked as they clocked out.

“Date? Naw,” Alex replied. “Even better! A gig!” Her eyes glowed.

“Oh, right,” nodded Bethany. “Your band. I keep meaning to come hear you guys.”

“You should come,” Alex said immediately. “I mean… It would be cool.”

Bethany looked bashful. “Aw, I don’t know… My boyfriend doesn’t like that punk stuff.”

For some reason, Alex wanted Bethany to come. “We’re not just punk,” she assured her co-worker. “We’re also hard rock.”

The two women wandered to Bethany’s bus stop, bundled up in their coats and smoking as they chatted. Despite Alex’s coaxing, Bethany couldn’t be bothered with Platinum Vomit’s latest gig.

*********

Forty-five minutes later, Alex was back in her apartment. She popped out of her grungy shower stall, drying her long hair with an old, stained towel. Her mind was already on the songlist for that night. She still through the band should open with “Pitchfork Love,” Jen’s ballad about-

She glanced at her clock. The time was 9:14 PM.

A wave of sickening revelation hit Alex. **_9:14?!?_** Oh, fuuuuuck! To get to Chesterbrook, she’d need to grab the 124 Bus, then transfer to the 92, and then walk ten blocks! That would take **_at least_** two hours! The gig was at ten o’clock!

“Fuck me, fuck me!” Alex screamed in sheer despair. **_How could she have spaced on the time?!?_**

She knew how. She was so used to walking the half-hour to Wily Mike’s, she had automatically fallen into her usual preshow routine.

Too late to grouse about it now. Alex threw on her stage outfit, cursing up a storm. It was now 9:19. Could she afford a taxi? No, she had maybe three dollars to her name, and she’d need money for a late night lift home.

** _Fuck!_ **

There wasn’t time to properly dry all of her hair, let alone apply the black makeup she liked. Alex needed a fucking ride. **_Now._**

*********

The door of 3C opened. Stunned, Leon peered out into the hallway.

“Hey dude!” Alex said, hoping she sounded cheerful. She flashed a coy grin. “How’s it goin’, buddy?”

“Uh, okay,” replied Leon, staring at his neighbor’s skimpy costume.

“Listen, you have a car, right?”

“Yeah,” Leon said, suspicious.

Alex nearly jumped into his arms. “Okay, great! Can you do me a teensy favor? I really, really need to get to Chesterbrook. Its an emergency.”

But Leon wasn’t the pushover Alex judged him to be. “Emergency?” he said crossly.

Alex’s smile faded somewhat. “Uh, yeah. My band… we’ve got a really hot gig.”

“Uh-huh,” Leon told her. “I’m busy.”

The young singer repressed the few tart retorts which flashed through her mind. “Aw, c’mon, dude,” she cooed, stepping a little closer. “Can I just borrow your car, then?”

“**_Borrow my car?_**” gasped Leon, insulted.

“I’ll take real, real good care of it!”

“No,” Leon said firmly.

Alex wanted to throttle the little nerd. “Aw, Jesus, dude! Give a sister a break!”

Her neighbor pressed his lips together. “Alright…” he said slowly. “But I-“

“Nice, let’s get going!” Alex cried.

“But I want something in return first,” Leon said, folding his skinny arms across his chest.

Alex groaned. “Dude, I’ll pay you for the ride,” she implored. “I mean, I’ll pay you **_back_** for the ride. Just get me to-“

“I don’t want an IOU,” Leon said dryly. “Somehow, I think you’re not that great with repaying debts.”

Alex, frustrated now, was tempted to feign outrage. But it was at least 9:35… the gig was in **_twenty-five minutes!_**

“Okay, okay, what do you want, dude?” moaned the beautiful young singer.

Leon cocked his head to one side. “I want you to let me hypnotize you,” he declared.

“**_What?!?_**” Alex screeched.

Leon shrugged. “I’m studying hypnotism, and I need people to practice on,” he said plainly. “I’ll drive you, but you’ve gotta promise that I can hypnotize you later. Tomorrow.” He arched one eyebrow. “Deal?”

“Hypno…” Alex spluttered. “Fuck no! No!!! **_Fuck you!_**”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, retreating into his apartment. “Maybe you can find someone else in the building who can drive you. Wish you luck…”

Both Alex and Leon knew: There was no-one else in the building with wheels. Unless Alex was willing to grovel on the doorstep of Jimbo the Pimp.

“Wait, wait, wait!” cried Alex as the door was swinging shut.

Leon hesitated, eyeing her closely.

*********

X Bar was a shabby loft bar, with a stage that was little more than plywood laid across shipping crates. The lights had been wired by someone who had no idea what they were doing, and the sound system was in even worse shape. The place was colorless dark and dank and smelled faintly of mold and urine.

Nonetheless, a sizeable crowd appeared, ordering beer and smoking far too many cigarettes. Alex liked the feel of the audience; they were restless, itching to release some frustration.

The young singer grabbed the mike. “**_Yo, X Bar!_**” she screamed, her voice booming in the cramped space. “**_You ready??? You ready to fucking ROCK?!?_**”

That was the cue for the first song. Immediately, Kelly began stomping the bass drum, pounding out a great rhythm. Amy’s bass guitar rumbled in time. And Jen began the opening lick.

Yeah… They sounded **_fuckin’ awesome_**.

Leaning into the mike, Alex sang:

** _ Your life’s shit, man?_ **

** _ My life’s shit_ **

** _ Well, fuck it all, I say_ **

** _ Fuck it all!_ **

Already, the audience was stomping in time with the music. Heads were bobbing along with the first and third beats. The stoners in the back were grinning and waving their arms in the air.

It was already a great show. Alex could **_feel_** it. Still singing, she glanced back at her bandmates.

Jen, working furiously on her guitar, met her gaze. And grinned.

Alex grinned back.

Sometimes, no matter how fucking horrible life is, all you need to do is make some music with some kindred spirits. Its amazing how many problems vanish once you do just that.

*********

Platinum Vomit bought the house down. When the girls crashed through their last song, the drunken audience screamed and stomped for more.

“**_Yeah, yeah, yeah!!!_**” they roared.

“**_We are Platinum Vomit!_**” shouted Alex, pointing toward an imaginary horizon. “**_We are here to rock and to conquer! Fuck you all, X Bar!_**” And she extended both of her middle fingers while sticking out her tongue.

The crowd went berserk with delight. The lustful men in the front row nearly stormed the stage.

The bartender switched the sound system over to the hi-fi, and Platinum Vomit shut down their instruments.

“Hey!” a young fellow at the lip stage called up to Alex.

She glanced at him.

“’Ay! Can I buy ya a drink, baby?” he yelled.

*********

The fellow’s name was Oscar. Balding at twenty-two, but with a good build and decent taste in clothes, Oscar seemed like a nice guy. He maneuvered Alex to the bar, buying her a gin and tonic that tasted stale. And then he launched into the history of his career as a gym manager. Alex listened with strained interest.

Oscar kept his hands to himself, at least for the first ten minutes. But then, his fingers were on Alex’s knee, and soon wandering up her thigh. The young singer sighed inwardly. In about fifteen minutes, Oscar would drunkenly suggest that she come back to his place, and about that time, his hands would be trying to snuggle under her breasts. Oscar was Mick and Gary and a thousand other horny guys before them. No different.

Over Oscar’s shoulder, Alex noticed a familiar face. Across the bar… there was Leon! Her dorky neighbor! What, after giving her that ride, he’d stayed for Platinum Vomit’s show?

That seemed… weird. Leon didn’t strike Alex as a punker. The young singer frowned.

Wait a minute. Leon was animated, talking away with someone. Who could he possibly be bonding with? Everyone at X Bar was dressed in night clothes or leather – Leon wore a Lacoste Crocodile Logo polo shirt, tucked into his beige trousers. He was the only person here without a tattoo, piercing, or spiked haircut.

Alex craned her neck. Leon was talking with Jen! Jen, her bandmate! Astonishingly, Jen seemed genuinely interested in what Leon had to say. She nodded as Leon spoke, occasionally asking a question.

So bizarre. Leon was trying to flirt. And while Jen wasn’t returning the signs, she wasn’t shying away, either.

“Hey, you wanna ‘nother drink?” Oscar said, interrupting Alex’s thoughts. His hand slid up her leg.

*********

After work the next evening, Alex realized with dismay that she had nothing to do. Platinum Vomit had no gigs or rehearsals for the foreseeable future, and she knew for a fact that the other girls were all occupied.

Depressed, Alex flopped down on her bed. She ate a bag of stale Doritos for dinner, watching TV, and feeling sorry for herself.

There was a polite knock at the door.

Alex rolled her eyes. The super had taken to coming to her door, asking for the rent, as if she sat around on piles of cash.

“Yo,” Alex said, wrenching her door open. “Look, I-“

But standing on her doorstop was Leon. The dork smiled at her expectantly.

“What?” Alex asked, wiping Dorito dust on her shirt.

“You ready?” Leon said. “Your hypnotism session…?”

Alex stared at him for a moment before she realized what Leon was talking about.

“We can do it at my place, or yours,” her neighbor offered.

“Hypnotize me?” Alex recoiled. “Fuck, no!”

Leon’s smile drooped. “But-“

“Fuck off,” Alex told him, and slammed the door.

*********


	3. The Hypnosis Contract

The next day it rained as if God wanted to flood the earth again. Alex got positively soaked while running home from work, and was dismayed to realize the new twenty dollar bill she’d tucked into her pocket was ruined. She’d needed that money.

Bummed, the young singer stripped out of her soggy clothes, lay out on her only towel, and lit a cigarette.

The phone rang.

“Yo?” Alex asked.

It was Jen. “_Hey,_” the guitarist said excitedly, “_how quickly can you get to X Bar?_”

“**_Now?_**” Alex asked in amazement. She peered out the window. “Jen, it’s-“

“_Yeah, I know its raining,_” said Jen. “_But X Bar’s regular act just canceled, and the owner wants us to fill in tonight._”

Alex’s head reeled. “Jen, no-one’s gonna come, not-“

“_I’m at X Bar now,_” Jen interrupted. “_There’s like, two hundred-some people here already. Amy and Kelly are already on their way. And Kelly’s brining her set. We just need you._”

Alex’s mouth opened, then closed.

“_Chick,_” said Jen urgently, “_the guy who manages X Bar really likes us. I mean, like, he might pay us for a few gigs, he likes us that much. We could be regulars here. If you can get here in like… less than an hour?_”

*********

Swallowing her pride, Alex banged on Leon’s door.

“Look, look, look,” she said rapidly when Leon’s suspicious face appeared, “I’m really sorry about earlier. Really sorry. I’m on my period, and-“

“Forget it,” Leon said, and went to shut the door.

“Wait,” Alex cried, desperate. She seized the door. “Look, I know I was a stinkin’ bitch to you, but… can you give me another ride?”

Leon started to speak.

“Please, please, please, dude,” Alex begged. “I know we can work something out. Just not… hypnosis, okay?”

“Sorry,” said Leon briskly.

“I’ll give you a hand job,” blurted out Alex. “I’ll let you feel my boobs! Over the shirt, I mean.”

“No,” Leon repeated. He pushed Alex aside and shut the door.

Standing in the hallway, the young singer tasted raw despair. Outside, she could hear the pounding of the rain. The universe seemed to be caving in on her.

“Okay,” she said, leaning against Leon’s door.

There was no response. Outside, thunder rumbled.

“Okay!” Alex yelled. “Okay, you win…!”

Leon’s door opened. He regarded his sexy neighbor with a wry look.

*********

“Geez, your place is a dump,” Leon couldn’t help but remarking.

Alex scowled. There was less than thirty minutes to get to the gig, and the Dweeb Next Door had insisted on coming into her apartment. Now, Leon stood in the middle of her little studio, gawking at the piles of laundry, Styrofoam containers, and discarded chip bags everywhere.

“Can we just get this over with?” she asked impatiently.

“You know,” Leon said, “you **_really_** should clean this up. You’re liable to give the building cockroaches.”

“Duuuuude!” wailed Alex, glancing at the clock.

“Okay, okay,” her neighbor muttered. He turned to the bookshelf of cinderblocks and plywood.

“Hey,” he said brightly, “what’s this?”

And Leon lifted up Alex’s guitar. Alex’s dad’s guitar. He held it reverently in both hands.

The young woman’s heart sank. “No,” she protested. “Not that. You can’t have that, you can’t-“

“No, this will do nicely for collateral,” Leon declared. “I’m going to hang on to this. Once you get hypnotized, for real, you can have it back. Not before. Fair?”

Seething, Alex stabbed a finger at the scrawny man. “First of all: Fuck you.”

“That’s the deal,” Leon said, now admiring the instrument. “Take it or leave it.” He twanged the G string with his thumb.

Alex passed a hand over her face. It was now twenty minutes until showtime.

“Fine,” she growled, doing her best to bury her fury. “Let’s just **_fucking go_**, okay?”

*********

The crowd wasn’t quite as large as Jen had promised, but they loved Platinum Vomit all the same. “You girls are dynamite!” exclaimed Conner, the always-stoned manager of X Bar.

“See?” Jen said to Alex. “If we play our cards right, **_we_** could be the house band here.”

Alex smiled on the outside… but inwardly, she knew: playing at X Bar meant she was at Leon’s mercy. At least in the short term.

*********

Business at Cooper’s Supermarket was slow the following day. So while on her smoke break, Alex nicked a dime from her register, then scurried to the pay phone across the street. The phone rang a few times before a prissy-sounding woman picked up.

“_Scheer residence,_” the woman chirped.

Alex winced. She truly despised her sister-in-law.

“Hi Blanche,” the young singer said, doing her best to sound cheerful. “This is Alex. Er, Alexandra. Is Cory home?”

On the other end, there was a disapproving grunt, and then the phone was shuffled about. Next, Cory’s baritone floated through the receiver. “_Alexandra_,” he said, already sounding wary. “_Wait, hold on, let me turn off the stereo._”

The phone was set down. Alex briefly heard Paul McCartney’s warbling voice:

** _ Yesterday…!_ **

** _ All my troubles seemed so far away…!_ **

** _ Now it looks as through-_ **

The music cut off.

“_Okay, Alexandra,_” Cory sighed, “_what is it this time?_”

Alex and Cory were twelve years apart in age, but they might as well have been from different planets. Cory was the overachiever, the kid who had proudly taped his report cards to the refrigerator, the guy whom all the mothers though was handsome, but all the girls thought was square and boring. Now that Alex wasn’t speaking with her mom, Cory had tried to become a surrogate parent, a role his much-younger sister resented.

“_If you’re asking for money, don’t bother,_” Cory warned. “_I co-signed your lease, and we both know that was a mistake._”

“Dude,” Alex groused.

“_Or are you ready to go back to school?_” Cory said hopefully. “_Get your GED?_ _I told you that dropping out was-_“

“**_Dude_**,” repeated Alex, now really annoyed. “I, like, need your professional help.”

“_Oh,_” her brother said, taken aback. “_Er, do you want me to refer you-_“

“No, ewww!” Alex made a face. “Listen, you hypnotize your patients, don’t you?”

Now Cory sounded defensive. “_Some of them. Its useful for memory regression, working with emotionally defensive situations. Sometimes for psychoanalysis._” A pause. “_Why do you ask?_”

“I have, like, this friend who wants to get hypnotized,” Alex lied. “And… like… Well, what can the hypnotist **_do_** to her?”

“_This hypnotist… is this like a stage show thing, or something?_” asked Cory, baffled. “_Because those stage show guys, they’re all a bunch of scammers._”

“Yeah, its kinda like that,” Alex said. She lit a cigarette. “So, what can this guy make her do? Can she be hypnotized to suck his cock, or-“

“_Language!_” scolded Cory.

“Just answer the question,” retorted Alex. “Will my friend be forced to do whatever the hypnotist tells her to do?”

“_You want my advice?_” Cory said. “_Have your friend write up a contract. Specifically state what she’s unwilling to do while hypnotized. Once both parties agree to a contract, the hypnotist can’t break it._”

“No shit?” Alex exclaimed. This was welcome news to her.

Her brother sounded irked again, but he ignored the profanity. “_Hypnosis isn’t mind control. It requires trust between hypnotist and subject. If your hypnotist friend tries to break the terms of the contract, that trust is broken. Your friend’s subconscious will realize it and she’ll come out, no matter how deep she’s under._”

“Really?” said Alex, interested. “Then how come when that stage hypnoguy came to my school, he forced Bruce Harcort to dance like a ballerina?”

“_The stage hypnotist didn’t force anything,_” Cory argued, sounding annoyed. “_When Bruce got up on stage, he was tacitly consenting to become an object of ridicule. But if Bruce and the hypnotist had made a contract that said, ‘No Ballet Dancing,’ there would have been nothing the hypnotist could have done._”

“Huh…” Alex said, the possibilities twirling in her mind.

“_If your friend and that hypnotist agree – on paper – what he can and can’t do to her, than she’s safe,_” Cory said firmly.

*********

“I need you to sign this,” Alex demanded, thrusting a paper at Leon.

The two were in Leon’s apartment, which was much, much nicer than Alex’s. For one, Leon had actual furniture, including a double bed, sofa, bookshelves, and a little table by the kitchenette. Framed posters hung from the painted walls. A really nice stereo was set up in the corner.

Over the record player, there was an enormous blow-up of the Abbey Road album.

“Aw fuck,” Alex said, making a face. “You’re a Beatles fan, too?”

Leon ignored her. He took the paper, sat at his table, and studied Alex’s handwritten hypnosis contract very closely.

Then he frowned. “I’m not signing this,” he objected.

Alex almost stamped her foot. “Fuck, **_excuse me?_**”

“I’m not agreeing to the things on this contract,” Leon said. “Oh, I get it,” he added quickly. “You want to feel safe before you go under hypnosis, right? I get that. But this…” He gestured to the paper. “This is way too broad.”

Reading the paper aloud, Leon quoted, “**_While in hypnosis, Leon can’t make Alex… (A) Do anything embarrassing. (B) Control her in any way. (C) Cheat on this deal._**”

“Its too broad,” complained the young hypnotist. “If I agree to this, what’s the point?”

Alex glared at him. “I think its **_perfectly_** reasonable,” she growled.

“Look,” Leon said, pointing to another one of his posters. “You know who that is?”

The poster showed a middle-aged, bearded man in glasses and a tuxedo. He stood on a stage, smiling before a line of people sitting in chairs. All the people appeared to be sleeping.

“That,” said Leon with reverence, “is Macon DuPree. The Master. Author of The Art of Stage Hypnotism. He’s the Man.”

“He’s… a stage hypnotist guy?” Alex asked, eyeing the poster.

“My idol,” acknowledged Leon. “He’s so nifty. Every year, I apply to attend his stage class. I’ve studied all his materials. But I need to practice on live subjects.”

Alex rolled her eyes. She didn’t trust anyone who freely used the word “_nifty_.”

“So the point of hypnotizing you,” Leon went on, “is to try Macon’s stage routines out on you. So, yes, you **_will_** be a little embarrassed. Yes, I **_will_** be controlling you. For a while. But once we’re done, you are free to be yourself once again. Get it?”

“Aw, shit,” muttered Alex, staring down at her boots.

“Look, look,” Leon said quickly. “But you want to set up some boundaries, right? So let’s work with that. What’s going to make you feel safe?”

“I don’t ever want to fucking call you ‘_Master,_’” Alex replied immediately. “No fucking way.”

Leon pulled out blank stationary from a shelf above his table. “_No… calling me… Master…_” he said aloud as he wrote. “What else?”

“I’m not sucking your cock,” the young singer warned. “In fact, no sex stuff. No sex stuff at all.”

Leon paused.

“Aw, fuck,” Alex said, aghast. “You **_wanted_** to do sex stuff to me?”

“Its not what you think!” Leon said quickly, suddenly blushing. “There’s this stage skit where I would hypnotize you to believe that you… ah, **_enjoy it_** when I say a keyword. Or when I shake your hand.”

Alex stared at him blankly.

“I would trigger you, and then you would have an orgasm,” explained Leon. “Its pretty simple, actually.”

“Ewww…”

“Aw, c’mon, that’s not so terrible,” Leon said with a _tut-tut_ expression on his face.

“**_We_** are not having any sex,” insisted Alex. “None. Nada. You can’t touch me, you can’t make me touch you, I’m not servicing you in **_any way_**. Or taking my clothes off for you.” She jabbed an insistent finger at the paper. “**_Write that down._**”

“_Leon… and Alex… will not have… sex,_” the hypnotist scrawled. “_Alex… won’t take off… her clothes… for Leon._ What else?”

Alex thought, still in a pissy mood.

“I don’t want to give you any of my money,” she insisted. “And you can’t come into my apartment without my ok.”

“_No… money…_” wrote Leon. “_No… coming into… apartment._ Anything else?”

“You can’t turn me into a chicken.”

“_No… chickens…_ What else?”

Alex thought furiously, wishing she knew more about hypnotism.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Nothing you… make… me do, nothing can happen in public. I don’t want to act like a bubbleheaded idiot outside this building.”

Leon added that to the list, then reread everything out loud.

“That looks good to me,” he said with approval. “Oh…” He added one last line: “_Once Alex… has been… hypnotized,… she gets… her guitar… back._ Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Alex grudgingly admitted. In the back of her head, she was certain she was forgetting something… But what?

Leon signed the paper, then pushed it across the table at her. “Sign here,” he ordered.

The singer sighed heavily. She glanced around the apartment.

There, propped up in the corner, was her dad’s guitar.

She signed the contract.

*********

Leon positioned Alex on his sofa. She sat with her hands in her lap, her heavy boots on the floor, her long hair draped over her left shoulder. Leon had dimmed the lights, and now a tall candle was set up a small table, flickering directly before the young singer. Grudgingly, she locked her stare onto the little flame.

“And now,” Leon purred, “you breath out of your nose, in with your mouth. You relax. You concentrate on the sound of my voice. You are letting go, slowly and gradually. You find your eyes stay riveted on that candle at all times. At all times. Your body breathes in, it breathes out…”

Alex listened, still in a foul mood. Leon was sitting beside her, a good three feet away. He was outside of her peripheral vision, so his slightly nasal voice seemed to be floating around the room.

_He’s _**such**_ a fuckin’ dweeb,_ the singer thought crossly. _I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this._

_Whatever,_ another voice said to her. _Just play the nerd’s game. Pretend to zonk out, jump through his hoops, and then you’re home free. Play him just like you play all those other horny losers you meet at the bars._

In a way, she reflected, Leon was the one getting the bum end of their deal.

The young man droned on and on. More than once, Alex’s thoughts wandered. Nothing seemed to be happening.

“And now, your ankles are feeling completely relaxed,” the hypnotist murmured. “You are feeling so good, so peaceful, just let everything happen as I describe it…”

_My ankles?_ thought Alex. _How can ankles feel relaxed? And shouldn’t he have started with relaxing my feet?_

But come to think of it… her feet **_were_** really relaxed. They felt as if they were dissolving into warm water. It was a really pleasant feeling.

“And now,” Leon’s voice murmured, “your eyelids will begin to feel heavy, so heavy. You calves are relaxing, and soon, you will feel an intense desire to sleep, sleep, _sleeeeeeep_…”

Alex’s eyes did blink, just in that moment.

_This is just a piece of cake,_ she thought, growing more unconcerned about hypnosis by the second.

Leon’s voice flowed on. “Your arms are soooo relaxed, they just give up all energy and droop at your sides,” he told Alex. “Your shoulders, so relaxed. Your chest, so relaxed. Your neck, so relaxed. So relaxed, so relaxed, soooo relaxed…”

How much time had passed by now? Alex wasn’t sure. She allowed her eyes to sag closed, just for a second. Strange, but she did feel tranquil. As if all the rage and frustration she felt were melting from her soul. Her arms tingled, and for a moment, they felt weightless.

The young woman struggled to open her eyes, to keep her blurred gaze on the candle flame.

“Your head, it is so heavy,” Leon went on. “Try to hold it up, you’ll see…”

And right on cue, Alex’s head suddenly felt twenty pounds heavier. In amazement, she felt it tip forward as her eyes closed for the final time. She was melting into the sofa, enjoying this warm-blanket feeling descending on all of her muscles.

Absently, she wondered if she shouldn’t have worn a tee shirt without a plunging neckline. With her head slumped forward, no doubt her deep cleavage was exposed. Perhaps Leon was gazing into it right now.

_Aw, fuck it,_ Alex thought. She felt so wonderful. She wanted to sleep, to tumble into this blissful feeling head-first, and let everything in life just happen to her.

Her problems were eons away. Her rent? Unimportant. The struggles of Platinum Vomit? Trivial. Her shitty love life and general lack of friends? Who cared? Alex was so tranquilized, a herd of stampeding elephants thundering by wouldn’t have bothered her.

“And now…” she heard Leon’s voice saying, “you will descend deeper and deeper into sleep as I count from ten to one. When I reach the number one, you will be deep asleep, and will want to follow and obey all of my instructions. Ready? Ten…”

For a moment, Alex was back at Wily Mike’s, snorting the white powder with Mick the Douchebag. Only now her high was wonderful, relaxing, like a sunrise of pleasant energy on her mind and body. She felt no anger or jitters? And Gropy Mick? He was gone, completely gone, replaced by Leon’s voice.

Leon’s wonderful, wonderful voice.

Alex wanted to relax even more. She wanted to do whatever Leon told her.

“…one!” counted the hypnotist, snapping his fingers. “You are now deep asleep, Alex, and completely in my power.”

_I am in your power,_ Alex thought passively.

It was true. Leon began to fill her with instructions.

*********


	4. The Weirdest Arrangement in Alex’s Brief Adult Life

For an immeasurable amount of time, Alex was floating in peaceful space, unaware of her body, her feelings, or even her memories. She hadn’t a care in the world. Somewhere, far away, she was aware of Leon telling her things, instructing her, commanding her, pacifying her, placing her in a happier state, and completely under his control. She loved it.

And then…

Then Leon was counting, his numbers growing larger in Alex’s thoughts. She was becoming aware of her body…

*********

“Five!” announced Leon, snapping his fingers.

The girl’s eyes flew open. In a rush, awareness of her muscles, her lungs, her weight upon the sofa, the dim light of the candle before her. That candle looked much shorter than she remembered.

“How do you feel?” Leon asked conversationally.

Alex cleared her throat, adjusting herself on the couch cushions. “Um…” she mumbled, collecting her thoughts. “Good. I feel good. Yeah.”

“Okay,” Leon said, stretching out his legs.

Still feeling a little spacey, the girl rubbed her eyes.

“You know, one of these days, I’m going to ask the super about turning up the heat a little more,” the hypnotist grumbled. He rubbed his skinny arms. “Its way too cold this time of year, don’t you think?”

His beautiful companion nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Way too fucking-“

“What’s your name, again?” Leon asked her, point-blank.

Alex opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

“Uh…” she paused, confused.

“C’mon, tell me your name,” coaxed Leon. “You used to know it, right?”

The befuddled girl was puzzled. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. It’s…”

Her brain was oddly jammed up. Try as she might, that name just… didn’t appear in her mind.

Leon smiled. “Let me help you,” he said. He snapped his fingers, once.

The girl blinked. “I’m Snow White,” she said automatically.

Leon was even more delighted. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Alex replied, a little annoyed.

“Your mom named you _‘Snow White?’_” Leon pressed.

“Fuck, yes,” the young woman responded, frowning. “Something wrong with that?”

Alex didn’t appreciate Leon’s wide grin. Why, she’d **_always_** been named Snow White! That was the name her momma gave her when she popped out of the womb, that was the name on her first-grade lunchbox, that was the name stamped on her work permit, her name was Snow White, damnit! **_What was so fucking funny?_**

“Nothing,” Leon agreed. He snapped his fingers before Snow White’s face. “Sleep!”

Instantly, the young woman dropped back into her blissful sleep.

*********

“…five!” Leon said. His fingers clicked again, loudly.

The young woman’s eyes fluttered open.

“Tell me again, who you are?” the hypnotist asked.

Alex’s mind went blank. She immediately sat up straight. “Why… I’m Snow White!” she assured him in a breathy voice. “I’m a princess!”

“Do tell,” Leon grinned.

“Why, goodness me, yes,” Alex said, daintily folding her hands in her lap. Like all real princesses did. “My wicked stepmother, she tried to poison me with a magic apple! But I fell into a magic sleep, instead.” She sighed, happily. “Then to be awakened by true love’s kiss…”

“Wow,” said her captivated audience.

Alex was **_thoroughly_** convinced that she was Walt Disney’s premiere heroine. In her memory, she could see her storybook life, utterly real in every way. She subconsciously adopted Snow White’s body language and squeaky voice. The illusion was complete in her suggestible mind.

“Ah, I knew one day my prince would come,” the hypnotized woman reminisced. “And indeed, he did! Its as I always say: If you just believe in your dreams enough, why-“

“Wait a sec, wait a sec,” Leon laughed. Alex/Snow White frowned at him, still sitting up with her back straight, her hands in her lap. “Can I tell you something else?”

“Of course,” Alex replied, still maintaining a ladylike poise.

Leon waved a hand over her face. “Dancer!” he intoned.

Alex’s thoughts once again skipped. No longer an animated princess, she rose to her feet, swaying on her hips, letting her arms out to her sides.

“Who are you now?” Leon asked, sitting back and crossing his legs.

“I’m… Glamora,” Alex said, her breath husky, her eyes heavily lidded.

Now Alex thought she was an exotic dancer, performing for Leon in an exclusive booking. She spread her feet side, and began swaying her hips back and forth. Her butt swayed in the air. Absorbed in the part, Alex closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her own hands wandering over her body. She found that she liked to fondle her own breasts and then ass while she danced. She moaned softly.

Leon leaned back, awe-struck.

Alex was truly, deeply hypnotized; there was no doubt in Leon’s mind now. She was completely unaware of what she was doing, merely carrying out the role that she had been instructed to play. To her, everything seemed like a living dream.

The young woman turned around, bringing her feet together. Now her hips were free for an even wider motion, and she shook her ass back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Her long, black hair tumbled down her back, acting like a curtain that struggled to hide away her raw sexiness.

For the first time, Leon realized he was fully erect. Alex’s complete surrender under hypnosis invited so many possibilities. He fantasized: Hypnotized Alex lifted her tee shirt up over her head… Hypnotized Alex kneeling before him and unzipping his fly… Hypnotized Alex gratefully putting his cock in his mouth… Hypnotized Alex naked, squealing with delight as he rammed her doggie-style in his own bed… God, the possibilities were tantalizing.

But there was the contract.

Alex had been very smart to demand that contract. Leon wondered how she knew to ask for it.

The young man knew: if Leon violated the contract in any way… an alarm would sound in the depths of Alex’s mind. She’d awaken instantly, knowing fully well what he’d attempted to do.

The thought was sobering. With a startled blink, Leon realized that while lost in thought, his hands had been reaching for Alex’s body. If he’d touched her, the contract would have instantly been broken.

Cursing himself, Leon quickly yanked his hands back.

“Glamora,” he commanded, “sit back on the sofa, okay?”

“Sure, honey,” Alex rasped, coming out of her dance. Moving with the sexiest possible body language, she lowered herself back onto the couch.

“**_Sleep!_**” ordered Leon.

The young singer’s eyes closed, and she tumbled back into her trance.

The hypnotist exhaled slowly, drawing both hands over his face. He hadn’t expected how erotic it would be to put sexy Alex into a trance. Protected by the contract, the young woman was fearless in hypnotism, unafraid of whatever her told her to do. And it was torturous, watching her sexy body dance for him, knowing he could only admire.

_Alright, alright,_ Leon told himself. _Get off of the stage hypnosis material. Let’s see how Alex responds with other kinds of suggestions._

“Deeper and deeper,” he told his beautiful subject. “Now, Alex, think ahead to when you come out of hypnosis for the last time today. When you go home, you will realize that your apartment is a complete pigsty. You will have the sudden urge to clean it. Nod once if you understand.”

Alex’s head rolled up and down, once.

_Good,_ Leon thought. _Let’s help her get her life in order, for once. She’ll thank me for it later._

He glanced up, his eyes coming to rest of the Abbey Road poster across from the sofa.

*********

Time rolled on. Alex’s inactive mind wasn’t certain if a few minutes had passed, or if she’d been asleep for days. She didn’t care. She loved this feeling. She loved the blissful feeling of perfect relaxation, of having no problems, no concerns, no stress of any kind. Getting hypnotized was like a massage for both the mind and body.

But then, she was aware of Leon counting once more, and this time, there was something more powerful about the numbers he spoke.

She was awakening, for good this time.

Her body and mind slowly returned to her.

And then, Leon was saying, “…eight. …nine. …ten, **_wide awake!_**” He actually clapped his hands, twice.

Alex opened her eyes, her thoughts momentarily confused.

“Uh…” she said, blinking.

“Here,” said Leon, handing her a glass of water.

Alex sipped. She cocked an eye at her neighbor.

“Did… the hypnosis work?” she asked, her voice dry.

Leon smiled. “Yeah,” he assured her. “You’re an excellent subject. Just excellent.”

Alex frowned. “You sure?” The last thing she remembered was… staring at that damn candle.

“Oh yeah,” Leon told her. He rose from the sofa, and picked up the guitar. “Here,” he said, “this is yours again.”

“Oh,” said Alex, still clearing the cobwebs from her mind. “Oh, okay. Thanks.”

She stood, surprised that despite her lightheadedness, she felt steady on her feet.

“Wow,” Leon smiled as she accepted the offered guitar. “You really don’t remember anything, do you?”

“I…” Alex paused to consider. “Well…”

She made a face. “Did I think my name was… Snow White?”

Leon burst out laughing.

To her surprise, Alex grinned in mild embarrassment. “Okay, okay, I can be hypnotized,” she admitted. “You are better than you let on.”

“Thanks,” Leon chuckled. He extended a hand.

Automatically, Alex accepted the handshake. As their palms connected, the young women suddenly felt her vagina come alive.

She reflexively closed her eyes. “_Ohhh…!_” she breathed, caught off-guard by the unexpected pleasure.

Leon pumped her hand up and down, up and down. Instantly, Alex’s thoughts were of masturbating, of erotic desire, of cumming like a naughty girl would. She bit her lip and pressed her knees together.

The handshake continued. The pleasure doubled, tripled, then tripled again.

“**_Cum now!_**” Leon ordered her. He snapped his fingers, loudly.

And then, Alex’s lady parts burst into song. She gasped and cried out, clutching Leon’s hand and her father’s guitar, not daring to release either. She thought she felt warm juices flood her vagina. She loved it.

“Ohhhh God…” she whimpered.

The orgasm tingled, a celebration of sex and life.

And then… as quickly as it appeared… the delight faded away.

Alex slowly opened her eyes, stunned at what had just happened. Leon laughed again.

*********

Try as she might, Alex simply couldn’t remember most of what she had done while in hypnosis. She vaguely recalled a few harmless moments, primarily the bit where she had been firmly convinced that her name was, indeed, Snow White. But everything else was a hazy blank.

But at the same time, Alex realized she didn’t really care if she remembered or not. The more she thought back to her time in a trance, the less interested she became. Getting hypnotized, she decided, was like getting really high. You gave up control, experienced an amazing state-of-mind, and felt great while doing it.

The difference between hypnosis and substances, however, is that you felt awesome for **_hours_** after coming out of hypnosis. Alex spent the rest of the day with a spring in her step. She actually caught herself humming a few tunes while she went to work scrubbing her apartment.

*********

Two days later, Jen phoned.

“_Killer news,_” she said, excited. “_X Bar loves us. Love us! They want us to do a week’s performance. Five days, Tuesday through Saturday night. And the owner has more bars, some downtown!_”

“Oh, fuck me!” exclaimed Alex.

“_Yeah, right?_” Jen enthused. “_So make sure you won’t work any evening shifts. I need you rested and pumped up for marathon performances._”

The two young women fell to talking about how far Platinum Vomit had come, from those giddy days when they’d written their first songs in the garage of Jen’s parents. The neighbors still hadn’t forgiven Jen’s family.

“_You know,_” Jen remarked, “_I’ve been thinking… Maybe we should do a few covers. Whadda ya say?_”

Normally, Alex would have scoffed at this. But today… today she was feeling unusually open-minded.

“Sure,” she said easily. “What’d you have in mind?”

“_I was thinking ‘Helter Skelter,’_” Jen proposed. “_Its raw, but a name._”

Alex paused. “That’s on the Beatles’ White Album, isn’t it?”

“_Its their heavy metal tune,_” replied Jen. “_You would scream the shit of out it._”

Surprisingly, Alex wasn’t opposed. “I’ll swing by the record store, listen to it, and get back to you,” the young singer allowed.

*********

A Tuesday-to-Saturday stretch of gigs was a big commitment. For once, Alex was thinking ahead, trying to foresee and overcome any problems **_before_** they became catastrophes.

Her biggest issue was transportation. So, five minutes after hanging up with Jen, Alex found herself knocking on Leon’s door.

“Hey there,” she said when Leon appeared. “I need another ride. You want to hypnotize me again?”

*********

Thus began the weirdest arrangement in Alex’s brief adult life. After work, she’d hurry to Leon’s apartment, where she’d spend an hour or in a trance. She rarely recalled what Leon commanded her to do, but the contract gave her the confidence that she was safe while in his power. Then, once she was awoken for the last time, Leon would chauffer her to X Bar, stay for the show, then drive her home after the late-night partying.

For Alex, this symbiotic relationship was oddly wonderful. The biggest surprise was that that she loved getting hypnotized! Hypnosis is a full-body relaxation exercise, so the hypnotized person awakes at the end of their session feeling like they’ve been treated by the world’s finest masseuse. Their bodies feel cleansed, and they experience a natural euphoria. Even better, Alex discovered that post-hypnosis, she had incredible energy and stamina and could perform on stage for hours. Her creativity was stimulated. She felt happier.

As to what Leon made her do while she was entranced… Alex couldn’t care less. Cory had been right; the contract served as protection. She felt safe, invincible, even when Leon was pouring instructions into her susceptible mind.

_Let the dweeb have his fun,_ she thought. _I’m getting free stress cleansers and free rides to X Bar. I’m getting the better end of this deal._

*********

Indeed, she was right.

While Alex was discovering the benefits of being hypnotized, Leon was starting to realize that their deal was too much for him to handle.

Alex was an excellent subject, unable to resist any suggestion while under. She would become his puppet, happy to carry out any of his whims while entranced, and then forget everything that had happened once she was awoken.

But the girl was too damn sexy. Her curve-packed seventeen-year-old body grew more luscious and desirable every time Leon saw her, and he discovered that he stared at her with unabashed lust anytime her eyes were closed. Alex was a woman who knew she was hot, and flaunted at the slightest encouragement. Leon fell to ruminating about those breasts, that butt, those long legs, that thin little waist. He thought about Alex all the time.

The contract now became a tortuous barrier for him. As badly as Leon wanted to make Alex strip naked, to cause her to fall in love with him, any thoughts of seduction were poisonous. He began to grow miserable, lusting over Alex, knowing he could never have her.

*********


	5. A Way Around

Alex’s third session was when Leon realized he would have to find some way of releasing his growing lust. He’d planned on hypnotizing Alex into believing she was a spunky cheerleader. But when he put her to sleep, Alex fell back on the couch, physically resting against her hypnotist as she went limp from head to toe.

Despite himself, Leon’s eyes wandered down into Alex’s visible cleavage. Her soft breasts were right there, rising and falling gently as she breathed. Her full lips were slightly open. Her unconscious face was tilted to directly face his.

The hypnotist couldn’t help himself. “When you next awaken,” he instructed Alex, “you are convinced that you are madly in love with me. I am the perfect man of your dreams.” He reinforced the commands, then counted her up.

Alex’s eyes fluttered open. She gazed up at Leon. A wonderous smile spread across her beautiful face.

“Hey there,” she said, oh-so-softly. Her deep eyes twinkled at him.

Immediately erect, Leon grinned back at her.

The contract said he couldn’t touch Alex’s body in any way. To do so was an instant trance-breaker. With all the willpower he could muster, Leon sat on his hands.

Alex twisted about on the sofa, rising up and pressing her body against his. He could feel those two breasts against his own thin chest.

The young singer sighed happily, wrapping her arms about Leon’s neck. “Ohhh…” she murmured, her lips just before his, “do you know how happy you make me, baby?”

She leaned forward, just a little more. Leon could feel her warmth.

Alex hovered before him, her mouth a mere inch from his. Her stared longingly into her eyes, wishing desperately that her could kiss her, even just once. He wanted her. He wanted her sooooo badly…

“You’re so perfect for me,” Alex whispered, raising one hand to caress his cheek. “So perfect… Did you know that, baby? I love you, so goddamn bad… Mmm…”

It was too much. Leon’s lust was on overload. His self-control was strained to the breaking point. He had to abort this fantasy, before he couldn’t resist her anymore.

“Sit back for a sec?” he murmured. “I want to tell you something.”

“’course, lover,” Alex smiled.

She withdrew, and Leon cursed inside as he felt the warmth of her body leave his own. She smiled, still giving him her best sexy look.

Hating to do it, Leon told her: “**_Sleep…!_**”

Alex’s face went blank. She collapsed into a limp pile of arms and legs.

_Shit!_ Leon thought angrily. _Shit, shit, shit!_ Here he had the world’s sexiest woman under his spell… and rather than making him feel like a stud, he was only aware of how he would never have her.

*********

Friday night was Platinum Vomit’s best night yet at X Bar. **_Three hundred_** people squeezed into the tiny dance floor to hear the band, and all three hundred of them went wild at the end of every song. The band sounded good, really good. Alex and Jen, in particular, were grooving well together.

Alex blasted her way through the last chorus of “You Rock Me,” feeling better about herself than she had in years. As she sang, her head tilted for a high note, and she caught Jen in the corner of her eye.

The guitarist was jamming away, strumming out power chords with a manic energy. She looked half-crazed, half-euphoric. And in the hazy bar-light, her spiked blonde glowed almost like a halo. Jen was a warrior-woman, conquering with music.

Alex grinned. She felt so alive.

*********

Saturday morning, Alex was late for work. Bustling from her apartment building with a cigarette dangling from her lips, she nearly plowed over Leon at the mailboxes.

“Whoa,” the beautiful singer cried as Leon sprang aside. “Sorry, dude.”

“No problem,” Leon said.

Alex flashed him a smile. “Hey, I’ll need a ride tonight again. Tonight’s our last X Bar gig. Can you hypnotize me at, I dunno, seven PM? That should be loads of time to do a session, then get me to the bar.”

“Seven, yeah, good,” replied Leon glumly. Already, he was imagining Alex’s scantily-clad body, sitting on his sofa, perfectly relaxed and in a trance. Another hypnosis session of wanting her, but being able to look but not touch.

“Great!” Alex chirped.

She was about to charge down the street when another idea popped into her head. “Listen,” she interjected, “maybe we can do this hypnosis/ride thing, you know, on a perm basis? I’m sure the band will have more gigs after tonight.”

Leon swallowed. “Sure.”

“Awesome,” Alex declared. “You know, when we started doing this, I-“

Leon glanced down at his mail. His eyes visibly bulged.

Although she was already late, Alex’s curiosity got the better of her. “Good news?” she asked.

His expression dancing, Leon tore open the top envelope. His face lit up in joy.

“Oh my God!” he crowed. “Oh shit! Look! Look, look!”

He thrust the typewritten letter at Alex. She read:

** _March 4, 1976_ **

** _Dear Mr. Leon Whaley,_ **

** _Congratulations on your acceptance to Macon DuPree’s master-level class in Stage Hypnotism. Mr. DuPree was impressed with your written materials and feels you have a bright future in this exciting field. Classes begin Monday, May 3rd in Las Vegas’ Stardust Hotel. Please be prepared to…_ **

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…!” Leon was babbling over and over.

“Wow,” Alex said, impressed. “Dude, you’re going to be famous.” She handed the letter back.

“Holy shit!” was all Leon could say.

“Couldn’t have happened to a better geek,” Alex cracked, patting the hypnotist on the cheek. “Later, I’ll see you tonight?”

As the singer vanished out the front door, Leon’s brain whirled with possibilities. Soon, very soon, he’d be flying out to Vegas, possibly to stay for a while. What if Macon DuPree invited him to perform a show out there? What if he was able to secure a talent agent using DuPree’s connections? What if-

And then, just as his mind was kicking into inspiration’s high gear, Leon almost kicked himself:

** _He knew how he would hypnotize Alex to satisfy his sexual lust._ **

Why hadn’t this realization dawned on him earlier? It was so obvious, so completely obvious!

The hypnotist grinned in relief. Then, pulling out his change purse, he moved to the pay phone in his building’s lobby.

*********

After work, Alex showered, dressed for her X Bar gig, then politely knocked on Leon’s door. It was ten minutes after seven.

The door swung open almost immediately. “You’re late,” Leon teased Alex as she entered.

“Whatever,” Alex shrugged. “Listen, I was thinking: While I’m under, can you give me some suggestions to help me with my singing? Hypnosis has got to-“

Her glance fell onto the sofa. A woman’s coat was tossed over the cushions.

“Well, well,” said Alex. “You invited a **_girl_** over, Romeo? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

“She’s not a girlfriend,” Leon said quickly, scooping up the coat. “I… uh… I thought we’d do something different for today’s session. We’ll do two-person hypnosis skits today.”

“You’re hypnotizing me along with someone else?” Alex said, surprised. She sat in her usual place on the sofa.

“You’re not the only volunteer I practice on,” replied Leon. “In fact-“

The toilet in his bathroom flushed. Then the running water came on.

“I see,” Alex said, not sure how she felt about this. “Well, you coulda warned me.”

The bathroom door opened… and Jen stepped into the little apartment. Alex stared at her in disbelief.

“Alex?” the guitarist said, her eyes wide. “What’re you doing here?”

“Fuck me, what are **_you_** doing here?” Alex retorted. “You never said that you were seeing him!” She jabbed a finger at Leon.

Jen flicked a glance between the other two. Then she shrugged. “Fuck it, I’ve always been curious about going under hypnosis,” she admitted. “My older sister used hypnosis to quit smoking, then she lost thirty pounds. It just sounded cool.”

Jen folded her arms. ”So when your neighbor mentioned he was studying to do it professionally, I thought that was far out. And then he offered to pay me to be a volunteer, just so he could practice.”

“He **_paid_** you?” Alex repeated.

“I paid you too,” insisted Leon. “I paid you in car rides. Jen here earned thirty bucks per session.”

Alex was feeling blindsided. “Jesus, how many fucking sessions did the two of you do?” she exclaimed.

“This is the third,” Jen admitted. She shot a suspicious look at Leon. “But you didn’t tell me you wanted to hypnotize me with another girl. Or that that girl was Alex. I’m not sure we’re gonna do a Session Three.”

“Yeah,” agreed her bandmate.

“Let’s get started, eh?” Leon declared, as if everything between the three of them was just hunky-dory. “I’ve got a lot planned.”

“Dude,” Jen said, her eyes narrowing, “I told you-“

“**_Blank,_**” Leon said, passing a hand before her face.

Immediately, Jen’s irritated expression faded. Her arms slipped to her side, and her eyes unfocused. Her lips parted, just slightly.

“Go and sit next to Alex, please,” Leon said pleasantly.

Without hesitation, Jen stepped across the room, obediently plopping next to Alex on the sofa. The guitarist seemed entirely unaware of what she was doing.

Alarmed, Alex grabbed her bandmate by the arm. “Hey,” she said urgently.

“**_Alex,_**” Leon said. His voice had the ring of authority.

The singer froze. Suddenly, she had to look up into the hypnotist’s eyes. She **_had_** to.

Leon’s pupils seemed to grow larger as he moved to stand before her. “Sit back and relax,” he ordered her.

Alex obeyed. She suddenly felt like a puppet, her own feelings strangely frozen.

“I know this is a little odd,” Leon’s voice said, becoming dream-like. “But you are now unconcerned. Relax, Alex. Relax deeply. Relax **_deeeeeeply…_**”

The beautiful young woman felt her arms and legs and stomach drain of all tension. All on its own, her body was surrendering its energy, obedient to Leon’s wishes. She felt her thoughts become disjointed and calmer.

“Very good, very good,” compliment Leon, his eyes sparkling before her. “Now… both of you… **_sleeeeeep…!_**”

Alex felt Jen slump against her as the guitarist tumbled into a hypnotic slumber. Realizing that Jen was out pushed aside the last bit of resistance within Alex. She allowed her eyes to close, and soon she felt the hypnotist’s words seeping into her mind. She felt delightfully vacant.

*********

…and then Leon was counting up.

Alex felt her body alight, her energy returning. She became aware of her arms, then hands, then fingertips. The same happened with her legs.

Before she knew it, she was blinking, and sitting up on Leon’s sofa.

For a moment, her thoughts blurred. What had happened?

“Alex?” a familiar voice next to her said.

The singer looked over. Jen was sitting there! Jen! On Leon’s sofa!

“Jen?” Alex said stupidly. “What’re you doing here?”

“I… um…” Jen replied, looking confused. She shrugged. “I dunno. I came over to Leon’s for a hypnosis session. But we haven’t done anything yet.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Alex. “Me too.” Still clearing the fog from her mind, she brushed her hair out of her face. Somehow, it didn’t surprise her that Jen and Leon were doing hypnosis.

“You know what, ladies?” Leon announced. “I changed my mind. I **_don’t_** want to do hypnosis today.”

“No?” Alex asked.

“Naw,” the skinny boy declared. “I have another idea. Why don’t you follow me?”

Surprised, Alex and Jen exchanged a glance. “Sure… okay,” Jen agreed.

*********

While Alex was renting their building’s smallest studio apartment, Leon had a one-bedroom. He now moved into the tiny bedroom, shutting the door after Alex and Jen obediently piled in after him.

Alex looked around. The room was tidy and sparse. A single bed rested against one wall; a single folding chair was opposite. There was a modest dresser, a laundry hamper, a small bookshelf, and a reading light. A poster for Sgt. Pepper was on the far wall. The curtains were drawn.

Leon occupied the chair, looking up at the two women expectantly.

“Dude,” Alex said, mildly confused, “what is this?”

“Alex,” said Jen suddenly.

“Hold on,” the singer insisted. She turned back to the hypnotist. “Seriously, what-“

“Alex,” Jen repeated, reaching out to gently touch her sister’s arm. “I feel like…”

“What?”

“I feel like we should dance,” Jen said, her voice wistful. “Yeah… we should dance.”

And with that, the guitarist closed her eyes. Her hips began swaying back and forth.

“C’mon, Jen,” frowned Alex. “Why the fuck-“

“Can’t you feel it?” Jen asked, her eyes still lightly shut. “We should dance.”

Now the older woman raised her arms. She bent her knees, allowing her motion to deepen. It also stuck her butt out further, making her curvy figure sway even more in the dim light.

Then Alex felt it. An undeniable desire to move her body possessed her. Not knowing why, the singer placed her hands on her own hips, surprised to find that they were already bobbing about to unheard music.

Yes. Jen was right. They should dance.

This weird desire made no sense, none whatsoever. Alex was not a girl who danced. On stage, she strutted, she flaunted, she posed in time with her music. But **_dance?_** No, that wasn’t her at all. Dancing was for silly girls, girls who wanted to lure boys. That wasn’t Alex’s scene, not at all.

And yet… On their own, her hips were swiveling. Her butt enjoyed bobbing back and forth in the air. Yeah… Yeah, this was actually kind of fun. Alex’s resolve weakened.

“Yeah…” she heard Jen whisper.

The guitarist was swaying back and forth, her supple body as seductive as a cobra’s. Jen knew how to pop her hips, and it was mesmerizing to watch her shake that curvy butt. The girl’s arms joyfully floated in the air. She was having the time of her life.

Jen opened her eyes, just the slightest movement of her eyelids. Her heavy gaze met Alex’s.

And that was it. Suddenly, all thoughts of doubt popped in Alex’s mind, and the singer completely gave herself over to the desire to boogie. She danced like crazy, shimmying up and down, letting her hands caress the air about her.

It felt wonderful.

But her feet felt heavy and wooden on the floor. “Hold on,” Alex mumbled, pausing to untie her combat boots. She kicked the black things aside, then stripped off her black socks as well. Her bare feet were delighted to come into contact with Leon’s shag carpet.

“Oh, yeah, good idea,” murmured Jen, already kicking off her old sneakers.

Alex danced, letting her shoulders move with a will of their own. Why did dancing feel **_so good?_** She had no idea. But she had no wish to fight this blissful feeling.

As Jen stood up to resume her own gyrations, Alex found herself gazing appreciatively at her bandmate. Jen was a gorgeous woman, with a beautiful body that strained against the ripped tee shirt and black jeans she was wearing. Why had Alex never noticed before? Jen’s figure was curvy and alluring. And she was now so much sexier as she danced away.

“Hey,” Alex breathed impulsively, “I have to see you naked, girl. I have to.”

It was the weirdest desire. Never once had either woman seen each other in the buff, nor had they ever wanted to. But now… now, in this dim lighting, with Jen’s form twisting away before her, Alex wanted nothing but to see every inch of Jen, nothing left to the imagination.

“Yeah?” Jen panted, still dancing.

“Get naked,” urged Alex. “I want to see you naked.”

Jen smiled, just a little. Her hands found her shirt and lifted it up over her head. She wasn’t wearing a brassiere, and her full breasts fell forward as the shirt came off. Alex danced closer.

Now Jen was unzipping her jeans. Her slender, expert hands guided the pants and underwear over her swaying hips and down her thighs. She paused long enough to let the jeans plop onto the carpet, then carelessly kicked them aside.

Jen was fully nude. Alex marveled at her flat stomach, her smooth pelvis, her soft blonde bush. She didn’t think that Jen exercised, but it hardly mattered; the guitarist’s flesh was soft and smooth, jiggly in just the right places, firm and supple in the others. The faint light rested on Jen’s skin and made her positively glow.

A look of ecstasy crossed Jen’s face. She bent her knees even more, dancing like a wild woman. Her movement were nothing but graceful and seductive, especially her hips. As the naked guitarist turned about, Alex admired her lean back and bouncing, round butt. There was much to admire.

Jen swiveled about again, now throwing a silky look directly at her bandmate. The woman’s expression was all lust, all inflamed desire. Alex knew: Jen was aroused. Very, very aroused.

“Mmm,” the guitarist sighed, flicking an eye over Alex’s figure. “Nice. Sooo nice…”

It was then that Alex realized that she’d been stripping off her own clothes, too. Surprised, she looked down at herself. She was naked, completely naked from head to toe. Where were her clothes? When had she removed them? Alex couldn’t remember. Nor did she care.

Knowing Jen was marveling at her, Alex plunged her fingers into her long, black hair, then raised it up over her head. Her fully nude form was completely visible, and secretly, Alex was tickled to know that Jen could see every inch of her. What would Jen like the most? Her tight little waist? Her breasts? Her hips? Her rear? The thought of the other woman scrutinizing her body and admiring it suddenly drove Alex wild.

Why was she acting like this? Where were these strange thoughts coming from? Was this a dream? If so, Alex hoped she didn’t wake up.

“Hey,” a soft feminine voice said to her.

Jen was standing before her, **_right_** before her, gently taking her by the hips. Alex felt her bandmate pull her closer, and then the dance stopped. The two women were toe-to-toe, their breasts and pelvises touching. Alex gazed into Jen’s heavily lidded eyes.

Neither woman said a word.

With a deliberate motion, Jen shut her eyelids and leaned forward. Her warm lips touched Alex’s.

Then they kissed. Softly. Gently. Slowly. Just two pairs of lips brought together, barely caressing one another.

Alex’s mind went blank. The kiss melted her, body and soul. She released her hair, and the black strands cascaded down about her and Jen like a strange waterfall. Alex felt herself surrender to Jen, gladly giving up all control. All she wanted was to experience this kiss forever.

Jen’s lips doubled in strength, and suddenly the guitarist’s skilled hands were sliding up Alex’s nimble body. It was delightful to experience those fingertips race up Alex’s back, pressing just so lightly into her muscles. Alex allowed her mouth to open, and now Jen’s tongue was touching her own. She could smell Jen’s sweet body in the air.

Alex pressed back, feeling her own vagina come to life. Oh God, was she aroused! She wanted Jen’s hands on her breasts, her buttocks, between her legs, everywhere.

Jen seemed to sense Alex’s lust. Suddenly, the other woman was fondling her, enjoying Alex’s fingers, while never breaking their kiss.

Alex indulged, too. She explored Jen’s skin, amazed at how smooth and soft her bandmate felt. Jen’s breasts were wonderfully-shaped, and Alex thrilled to feel their cushy weight in her palms. Jen’s nipples were huge, almost pushing back against her.

“Oh God,” Alex moaned, breaking the kiss. She ducked her head down, bringing her lips to Jen’s graceful neck.

And then, the two women were unrestrained, caressing and kissing one another wherever they could. Sometimes they kissed one another’s bodies, sometime just on the lips. Alex couldn’t stop herself. The more she worshipped Jen, the more she wanted in return. Their lust was insatiable.

“Get on the bed,” Jen whispered urgently. “**_Hurry_**.”

Alex obeyed, allowing Jen to guide her. Soon, the singer was on all fours, facing the wall. Jen swooped in behind her, and quickly pushed Alex’s buttocks to the side.

“Ohhh…” Alex gasped as she felt Jen’s tongue touch her wet vagina. Jen’s tongue was transmitting pure wonder and delight into her quivering body.

“Oh, fuck me… yes!” Alex wailed, delighted with the realization: this felt so **_right_**.

She pressed her hips back, trying to push more of Jen’s tongue into her vagina. She set her hands on the mattress and arched her back like a cat.

Jen struggled, gripping Alex’s legs firmly.

The pleasure continued, roiling Alex. She kicked from her knees and clawed at Leon’s bed so much, she might have punctured the mattress.

But Jen’s strength was fading. Sucking at Alex’s clit was difficult at this angle.

_Jen’s never done this either,_ Alex realized.

Without another thought, the singer pulled out, then flipped onto her back. She threw open her legs, then grabbed her lover by the blonde hair. With one firm jerk, she planted Jen’s face right before her vagina.

The guitarist knew exactly what to do. Her lips pressed forward, greedily sucking at Alex. That skilled tongue dove into the wet folds of Alex’s lady parts, and went to work.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, **_fuck!_**” Alex cried, screwing her eyes tightly shut. Wave upon wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her. She trembled and actually wondered if she might be swept away “Fuck, fuck, **_fuck!!!_**”

Jen, still tonguing madly, growled like a tigress. She ate at an even greedier rate.

Alex felt a blast of pure joy explode between her legs. She wordlessly screamed, a song of one note, high-pitched and beautiful. Her fingers and toes sparkled and wriggled in spasms of celebration. Her eyes rolling back into her head, Alex arched her back, kicking madly below the knees.

This orgasm… this orgasm near broke her. Alex had never climaxed before, not even in private moments when she’d played with herself. It was as if Jen had awoken a mighty, beautiful beast within her. Now the she-beast of sex was roaring, declaring to the universe that Alex was a woman now, alive and full of passion.

The chemical joy became too much.

“Omigod, stop, stop!” begged the singer, pushing away Jen’s head. “Omigod…!”

The stimulation stopped, but the pleasure didn’t completely fade away. Alex collapsed into a sweaty heap, breathing in jagged, desperate gasps.

“You okay?” Jen asked, confused.

With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, Alex seized Jen by the armpits. She pulled the other woman toward her, then forced the guitarist onto her back. In a flash, Alex was snuggled up against her, lying on her side, wildly kissing Jen and exploding her with her one free hand.

The hand slipped down, down, down, nestling into Jen’s small pubic bush. The guitarist moaned when she realized what was about to happen.

Horny beyond belief, Alex kissed her harder and began fingering.

*********

A mere five feet away, Leon watched the lovemaking, his own mind whirling with erotic wonder.

_Goddamn…!_ he numbly thought to himself for the billionth time. Alex and Jen were amazing as lovers, but this… This was beyond anything he’d hoped for.

In their first conversation, Jen had subtly told Leon that she didn’t care for men, that she had been gay for as long as she could remember. It was one of the reasons she’d agreed to being hypnotized; she knew that no matter what Leon commanded her to do, he could never, ever seduce her.

Leon had hypnotized Jen anyway for the practice, and she proved to be a great subject. Alex, of course, was the real object of his lust. Sweet, sexy Alex, with that supple body, nice breasts, tight butt, and skimpy wardrobe… oh, he’d wanted her from the moment they’d met. And yes, he’d proposed hypnotism to her in the hopes of luring her into his bed.

But Alex had outsmarted him right away. The contract had protected her, and would forever protect her from his hypnotic advances. To satisfy his lust, Leon had to find a way around the contract.

And then, to his astonishment, fate had thrown him a curveball. Alex, despite not knowing it, was gay! Absolutely gay. He’d suspected as much in their last session. Under hypnosis, Alex had confessed that she’d never seen a penis, nor did she ever care if she never saw one. Women who are curious about sex with men are never disinterested in the penis.

On the day Leon had hypnotized Alex to fall in love with him, the hypnotist had thought he might be able overcome her lesbian nature. But now, watching the two women enjoy one another on his mattress, he knew: Alex was a lesbian, hard stop. There was no way Leon could ever sexually seduce her.

But if prodded, Jen and Alex… They might leap at the chance to make love to one another.

And now, while Jen came and moaned in pure happiness, the hypnotist knew his little experiment with these two beautiful ladies had run its course. He could erase their memories of this incident, of course, but they clearly clicked together as a sexual couple. They deserved the chance to find out if there was a future there.

So once Jen had climaxed, he’d hypnotize them again, for the last time. He’d tell them they would remember what they’d done, they’d feel unashamed, and then they could decide the path forward together.

Oh, and he’d add in a few extra suggestions, too. To help them along. And to make modest improvements in other ways.

*********


	6. Epilogue:  Something in the Way She Moves…

** _One Year Later…_ **

“_Okay, final track,_” the fat engineer behind the glass said. “_You ladies ready?_”

Alex brushed the hair out of her eyes. It was three in the morning. She was exhausted. Her back ached. Her throat hurt. Sweat coated her entire body, as the recording booth wasn’t air conditioned. She felt like she’d run a marathon… and then all the other runners had trampled her.

But they were nearly there. A quick glance at Amy, Kelly, and finally Jen confirmed what she already knew: The band was still together. Tired, but as determined as she was.

Alex nodded. “Roll it.”

The engineer hit a few buttons. “’You Rock Me_,’ Take Five,_” he said. “_Track Six. Go._”

Amy and Kelly immediately pounced. The drums sounded like thunder. The bass rumbled like a thing alive. They sounded **_great_**.

Alex closed her eyes, feeling the rhythm shake the hot air about her. She bobbed her head to the music, making vocal love to her microphone:

** _ Ohhhhhhh baby, you were what I needed_ **

** _ Ohhhhhhh baby, you make me feel good_ **

** _ You rock me, baby, you rock me_ **

** _ Yeeeeeeeeeeah!_ **

Jen’s guitar riffs blasted the air, driving the song. It was all Alex needed. She summoned even more energy.

The band crashed on, never sounding louder, never sounding more alive.

The tempo picked up. None of the girls had to look to one another for direction, they all felt the music as one. It was as if everyone had merged into a single musician, all channeling and feeding from one another.

** _It. Was. Glorious._ **

And then, as quickly as the song had launched, they were done. The engineer held up one hand.

He pushed a button.

“_And… there,_” he announced. “_That’s a final take, ladies._”

Alex, Jen, Amy, and Kelly all burst into relieved laughter.

*********

It was past six AM when Alex and Jen trudged up into their joint apartment. A cramped little studio in north Chesterbrook, the place was sparse, but cozy. Jen’s massive collection of hard rock LP’s, neatly packed into plastic milk crates, dominated the exposed brick wall. A small stereo and a stand with four guitars completed the display.

“Oh my God,” Alex moaned. “Who knew recording a fucking ten-song album took **_eighteen hours_**?”

“It’ll be worth it,” insisted Jen. With an exhausted groan, the guitarist eased down onto the faux leather sofa. Cory had given that sofa to the girls as a Christmas present.

Alex glanced about the apartment, noting the dust bunnies under the bed and sofa. “Fuck me, this place is a wreck,” she moaned.

“Girl, we’ve been working almost nonstop this week,” said Jen. She laughed quietly. “Jesus, Alex, you don’t have to scrub this place all the time, you know?”

Ever since Leon had moved to Las Vegas, Alex was possessed by the urge to clean the apartment at least every other week.

“Let it go,” urged Jen, a teasing smile on her face.

Alex made a face, but retreat to flop down on the bed. She scooped up the pile of mail that had accumulated over the past week. Jen grinned again, then swiveled her body to face the guitar rack. Her hand reached for an instrument.

“Are you kidding me?” Alex asked. “We just played for how many hours? And now you want to jam?”

But Jen ignored her. She selected a guitar, gingerly lifted it from the rack, then placed the instrument across her belly.

Alex paused. Jen had selected Alex’s dad’s guitar. She was the only person in the world who was allowed to touch that beautiful instrument.

Jen and that guitar. They went so nicely together.

As her girlfriend started to tickle the strings, Alex smiled. Who would have thought that Jen would be such a wonderful lover? From the moment they were an item, Jen gave Alex a home, a voice of reason, a shoulder to lean upon. Jen helped balance Alex. Now, the young singer was less prone to wild, impulsive choices. She was learning to trust. Hell, after mulling the pros and cons with Jen, Alex was seriously considered going back to school for her GED.

And Jen? Since hooking up with Alex, Jen had realized that she needn’t worry so much. The guitarist had learned that Platinum Vomit’s success didn’t solely rest on her shoulders, that she could delegate some of the responsibilities to her bandmates.

Plus, Alex made Jen laugh. Only Alex could make Jen laugh.

Jen switched to quietly strumming: F chord. E-flat chord, then G over D. C chord. Then repeat.

Alex shook her head. She looked back down at the mail, now finding a yellow flyer in her hand. The postmark was Atlantic City. Crudely printed, it said:

** _LIVE AT THE TAJ MAHAL!_ **

** _THE MASTER OF THE MIND HIMSELF…_ **

** _LEON LOWMAN, EXPERT HYPNOTIST_ **

** _LIVE, AND ON STAGE!!! COME FALL UNDER HIS SPELL AND HAVE THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!!!_ **

A grainy black-and-white picture of Leon was printed at the bottom.

“Fuck me,” Alex mumbled. “Our boy cleans up good in a tux.”

“Mmm?” said Jen, still absorbed in her song.

Alex turned the flyer over. On the back, there was a handwritten note:

_Hey girls! Been thinking of you guys! Come on down for old times’ sakes, you can tell me about your life as Philly rock stars! -Leon_

The young singer smiled. Leon saw Alex and Jen as a couple; that was a nice feeling. In 1970’s America, lesbian affairs were seen as deviant. Hell, even Amy and Kelly didn’t know that their other two bandmates had hooked up.

At the moment, Jen began to sing softly:

** _ Something in the way she moves_ **

** _ Attracts me like no other lover_ **

** _ Something in the way she woos me_ **

** _ I don't want to leave her now_ **

** _ You know I believe and how_ **

As Jen sang, her eyes drifted up from the strings, coming to rest on Alex’s face. The younger woman realized: Jen was singing **_about_** her. And **_to_** her.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, the young singer rose to come over and kiss the forehead of her beautiful girlfriend.

Jen smiled up at her.

A light bulb went off in Alex’s head. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Leon! That **_fucker!_** He… he hypnotized us to like the Beatles, didn’t he?!?”

“Huh…” mused Jen, releasing the strings. She frowned. “Well… when you think about it, you have to admit: the Beatles were pretty fucking innovative.”

When Alex made a face, Jen said pointedly, “Well, they **_were._**”

Alex rolled her eyes, then laughed.

“Yeah,” she admitted, “they were.”

*********


End file.
